


Sheets

by redthreadrat



Category: Fruits Basket
Genre: Incest, Love/Hate, M/M, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Somnophlia, Trans Character, Trans!Yuki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16344989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redthreadrat/pseuds/redthreadrat
Summary: Ah, but then again, Ayame is the only one who knows how to hold him.





	Sheets

Ayame Sohma is pompous, crass. 

Full of himself in a way that grates against the judgement of others, over-confident to the point of narcissism; someone who, immediately after meeting him, you either love entirely or hate with your whole being. Yuki has always known this to be objective fact; his brother is selfish and vain, only worried ultimately about himself. Yuki doesn’t rely on adults on a good day, but  _ especially _ not Ayame. Being in the same room as him makes his skin itch, his brow furrow. Maybe, once upon a time, things had been different. When neither of them were each other, and they weren’t so estranged; but that is not this lifetime, this place, the here or now. 

The snake that Yuki knows is what his name implies.

Ah, but then again, Ayame is the only one who knows how to hold him. His visits are short and far between, but in the dead of night he'll crawl into Yuki’s bed, curl around his back-- press tender kiss after tender kiss to the soft spot of his throat. And Yuki will lay there, at first, resisting the temptation that calls to something more than the sum of himself. Rats and snakes have always been this way; dangerous teeth and winding bodies, a dance that is as deadly as it is sensual. Yuki tells himself that's the only reason he allows this kind of touch to continue; not because of his own loneliness, or a fear of the dark-- but simple,  _ carnal  _ need.

Eventually Yuki comes around, because he can't stop himself from making noise, and hearing the way Ayame's breath hitches is too addictive a sound to ignore like this. Coiling ever tighter around him, his brother presses unnaturally cold hands to his shoulders, his sides; trailing iced paths along Yuki's overheated skin. Ayame has so little shame and so much desire that Yuki could drown in it; and on nights like this  _ (where his brother's fingers tease at his clit) _ , he finds himself unwilling to resist that pull. Yuki pushes his hips back against Ayame's, feels how hard he is against his ass, moans hotly against the fingertips that tap along his lips. The house is old, and the walls are thin, but he finds himself grateful that the rest of the house sleeps like a rock. Mostly because it’s hard not to return his brother’s moans, to resist rocking in time with his hips and groaning with the kind of shame that burns his throat. 

Yuki feels his tongue on his skin, lathing a path up his throat, around his ear. The way Ayame chases his pulse with his teeth makes his skin rise with goosebumps, his folds slick and wet and  _ loud _ in the space of his bedroom. They hardly ever speak when they’re like this-- both of them are too eager, moving at too fast a pace to use their mouths for anything but kissing and biting, but exploring skin and suckling the most aching parts of each other. At some point Yuki’s got his hands tangled in Ayame’s hair, rutting against his face and savoring the heat of his mouth, chasing a high he dares not pursue with anyone but him. Like this, he can forget who they are, the way they’ve treated each other, and instead turn the tables and swallow him down his throat. How, in the morning, Ayame will slither from his bed before everyone wakes up, take his place back downstairs in the futon Shigure laid out for him after dinner, leaving him cold and resentful. 

Yuki is too proud to ask him to stay, and Ayame is too oblivious to offer.


End file.
